Beautiful Geeks and Circus Freaks
by medicated memories
Summary: We were the trio of misfits; Jack, Jonathan and I. And one day, one of us would rule the world...JokerxOC & CranexOC
1. Rulers of the World

We were the inseparable trio; Jack, Jonathan, and I

It all started at GMS, Gotham Middle School . It was my first day attending, and I felt a strange sense of power and fear when people regarded me as a sixth grader. I was one of the big kids now. Excitement fluttered in my stomach like a swarm of startled butterflies, and I put on my favorite borrowed sweater from my mother. It was light gray in color, with the elbows worn out from old age. It was a dress on me, and I felt pretty beneath its soft, weathered material.

My first day remains crystal clear in my mind. I sat by myself in the auditorium, listening to the buzz and excited hum of conversation that swirled around my ears. The orientation consisted mainly of teachers introducing themselves, laying down the rules, and making our futures at GMS seem brighter and more successful than they could ever possibly be. When the principal dismissed us I was caught in a torrent of children; all pushing and shoving to get out of the sweaty, stuffy building.

There was a crowd of well-groomed kids chanting in a circle near the basketball court. I felt a low, bleak feeling creep into my stomach, and I pushed my way through the screaming mob.

"Beat the freak, beat the freak!"

The words that they screamed settled into my ear and stung my brain. I shoved my way blindly though the jackets and expensive dress shirts that made up the population of the group, and what I saw turned my blood to ice.

A boy lay crumpled in a heap, body shaking violently when ever his tormentors kicked or spat at him. He lay on his belly, arms curled against his head to protect himself. I tasted bile in the back of my throat and something…darker. A heavy, black emotion soured and coated the back of my tongue; disgust…revulsion.

"Stop it!" I screamed, hurling myself on top of the boy's fallen form, wrapping my arms protectively around his back.

I took the two boys, who were beating on this tormented soul, by surprise and they paused for a minute. The chanting died down and a murmur arose from the crowd. They seemed to be soaking me in; appraising my unbrushed hair and my baggy and tattered clothes with their shallow, scornful eyes. One brave kid pumped his fist in the air, shrieking; "Beat the _freaks_, beat the _freaks_!"

Like a mindless animals the rest of the crowd began to thrust their fists and chant. Encouraged, the two bullies began kicking me all over. I squealed when the toe of an expensive Italian shoe thrust itself into my cheek, and began to cry when the other boy jammed his foot into my ribs.

A loud _shink_, the sound of metal scraping against something solid, caught the bullies' attention, and they stopped raining blows upon our two frail and broken bodies. The circle became silent as the sound became louder, and they parted, revealing a boy about my age. My vision was so blurry from my tears that I took me a second to realize why the once lively crowd had gone dead silent.

My eyes first landed on his hands, on the switchblade cradled in his right fist. Then, they flickered to the boy's face, trying to measure the expression there. That's when I saw the scars.

They started at the corner of the boy's lips and ended at his cheekbones, leaving a crooked trail of pink, puckered scar tissue along the sides of his cheeks. I could feel my tongue swell with a sort of pitiful disgust, and I couldn't seem to look away. My heart skipped a beat when his gaze drifted upon me, and I tore my look away from his emerald-flecked eyes and taut, ragged scars.

"Classy," his voice rang loud and raspy, filling the silence with an eerie tension that he only heightened when he thumbed his switchblade out, and then retracted it.

"Beating up on a lady, now fellas? That's real…real _bold_ of you. I bet you feel _manly_ now, leaving her on the floor like that."

He pointed his knife in my direction, emphasizing my current position.

"I like to think of myself as a…a _gentleman_, call me old fashioned and _all_." He leaned towards the boy in the Italian shoes, grinning maliciously, and swiped at him with the blade.

He was skilled, for he only grazed the boy's cheek, leaving a clean red line across his skin. Blood dribbled from the wound and with disbelief in their eyes, the bullies bolted. The boy smirked at the crowd and walked up to me; crouching before the lump that I had become on the floor. I shut my eyes tight, waiting for him to hurt me. My body tensed, and I held my breath.

_Shink_. Nothing happened. I peeked my eyes open and saw that he had retracted the blade and was holding out a hand. A helping hand. I reached for it with my own trembling fingers and, with exceptional ease, he pulled me up to a standing position. The group was a mess of wide eyes and held breath, and they dispersed quickly when the boy waved his knife at them.

I turned my gaze from my scarred savior to the wrecked boy on the floor. He had lost consciousness a while ago, his breathing slow and soft. With sorrowful fluidity, I knelt next to him and cradled his head in my lap. I turned his face heavenward, so that he could breathe a little easier, and was shocked at how oddly…pretty he was.

He had large eyes, almost a little too big for his adolescent face, and round, pouty lips. My eyes slowly tore away from his angelic face to his attire, which was probably the reason for all of the fuss. He wore a large plaid shirt that must've been his father's; that could be the only explanation for how immensely huge it was on him. His jeans were ripped and stained with dirt, showing his boney knees though the missing material. His body was light under my touch, even though he was unconscious, which alluded to a waif-like figure.

The boy standing beside me grunted, and I whipped my head around to thank him profusely.

"No problem, I always enjoy saving a…_damsel_…in distress." He shrugged and tucked his switchblade into the pocket of his flannel shirt.

"What's your name?" I asked hopefully, wanting more than ever to find out about this mysterious creature that had saved me and the angel in my lap.

"Jack…Jack Napeir…you?"

"Mia Ashcroft." I beamed, trying to convey the overwhelming gratitude that I felt for him through my smile.

"Who's the…umm…boy…?" There was annoyance in his voice; he had not intended to save a boy, even a boy as effeminate as this one.

"I dunno, he sure is….pretty though, isn't he?" I mused, just speaking my thoughts, playing with a lock of his thick mop.

"No wonder they were beating the crap outta him," Jack grumbled to himself.

His eyes cut across to meet mine, and as soon as they met my grey gaze, they dropped to floor. His fingers traced the length of his scars, and I could see his tongue do the same from the inside of his mouth.. Must've been a nervous habit.

"Umm…can I ask you a question?"

His eyes darted to mine, something brooding and dark writhing like an animal behind his soft green irises. He measured my face and knew what I was going to ask. Those scars had my tongue tingling with questions, but that look in his eyes sedated my thoughts.

"No," he whispered raspily, fully knowing what I was going to ask. His voice was always seemingly torn between that of a boy's voice, soft and high, and a man's gravelly tone. I liked it.

I cast my eyes back to the fallen angel, who was showing signs of life again. His eyelids would twitch or his fingers would jerk, until his eyelids fluttered open revealing a pair of stunning, confused blue eyes.

He bolted to a sitting position, and then grabbed his head, which I'm sure was throbbing with the heavy beat of a headache. He turned his porcelain face to me, eyes flickering between Jack, who was looking off in the distance, mind elsewhere, and I. His mouth formed a small frown but still retained his pout.

"Who are you?" His voice was cold and demanding.

I smiled my best at him, trying to convey to him that I was a creature of kindness.

"I'm Mia Ashcroft." My hand unconsciously reached out to him.

"Don't touch me," he hissed, glaring at me from under the thick fringe of his dark lashes.

Jack jumped in his skin at the sudden malice in the boy's voice, bringing him back from the abyss of his mind. He sighed, annoyed, and ran a hand through his long, dirty blond hair..

"Shut up," Jack growled, agitated, "_she_ saved you from being beaten to a bloody pulp, so _show_ the girl some manners."

The boy shifted his frosty glare to Jack, who, as a response, stuck his long tongue out at him between smiling lips. The boy rose, never taking his fierce stare off of Jack, and stalked away. He was exceptionally tall for his age and, with his lanky build and worn clothes, something about him reminded me of…a scarecrow.

Jack was attacked with a fit of giggles, and the boy, who was still in hearing distance, turned his head back at us as he walked. His big, almost buggy, blue eyes scorched through Jack, and then his gaze shifted to me. His irises were hard and clear like ice and the lids around them narrowed considerably. The first thought that popped into my mind was, _if looks could kill…_

The boy's head snapped back to look ahead of him and I rose to my feet and stared sadly after his retreating form. I turned towards Jack, who had stopped his maniacal fit and seemed to be watching me.

"Wow…he is…something else," I said slowly, having a hard time finding a suitable word to describe the boy.

A laugh sparkled in Jack's golden-green eyes.

"You are too kind with your words. He is a dick."

"It's probably because he's got no friends. Maybe-"

"Why would anyone _want_ to be friends with that kid?"

"I hate being interrupted," I stated flatly, hoping to get my point across without being too rude.

Jack blinked at me, grinned a wicked smile, and then gestured for me to continue with mocking in his eyes.

I coughed uncomfortably and continued.

"Maybe all he needs is a friend."

"Oh well that's too bad," Jack cooed with false concern, "'cause he sure as hell won't find one in this school."

"I'm going to befriend him," I announced defiantly.

"Good luck with _that_."

"You're going to help me." A mischievous smile tinged my lips.

Jack raised his eyebrows at me, a small smile of amusement playing on his lips.

"Really?"

"Really," I said, grinning up at him.

Without even thinking, I grabbed his hand and dragged him in the direction that the boy had stormed off. A slight blush crept underneath his olive skin, and it confused me, but I continued to haul him over to the little courtyard where I saw the twig of a boy sitting in the shade of a tree with a book propped up on his knees.

I walked all the way up to his feet and knelt down in front of him.

"Hello," I said pleasantly, watching his bright blue eyes scan the pages of his science textbook.

He didn't acknowledge me, so I continued to speak.

"We kinda got off on bad terms…soooo, how 'bout I reintroduce myself?" He looked up at me for the briefest second, then went back to his text.

"I'm Mia Ashcroft. And that," I hiked my thumb at Jack, "is Jack Napeir."

Jack stood behind me, weight shifted to his left foot, staring bored at the smoggy sky.

No response.

"What's your name?" I encouraged, my eyes searching his face for the slightest hint of emotion.

He flipped a page in his book. I felt a spark of anger alight in my belly; I hated being ignored even more than I hated being interrupted. I rose to my small height and put my hands on my narrow hips.

"Why are you ignoring me? Do you treat all the people who help you out like this?"

His eyes flickered to mine, the fire of shame and anger still simmering behind his crystalline irises. He didn't say anything.

I sighed, not yet defeated, and returned to my sitting position in front of his feet. Jack eventually joined me in the grass, still caught up in his head. We sat there for a good ten minutes, picking at the blades of imported flora. My gaze kept drifting towards the boy, and when he finally spoke, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"What exactly do you want from me?" His voice was tired, like it had been an effort to ignore us for such a long, uncomfortable time.

"Just your company, that's all," I said casually, playing with a blade of grass.

"My company?" He questioned, slightly confused.

I peered up into his eyes and saw a spark of interest gleam in their watery blue depths.

"Yeah, because…you know… Heck, I'm not going to sugar coat it. We're freaks, at least in the eyes of the kids here. You, me, and Jack are different, but different…well, different isn't always a bad thing. We should stick together, you know? Have each other's backs and all that. I'm curious about you, anyways." I flashed him a smile, and his eyes softened.

"Should we give this introduction thing another try?" I teased. "Third time is the charm."

He gave me an uncertain, closed-lipped smile, his eyebrows pulling together, and extended his hand.

"I'm Jonathan…Jonathan Crane. And you're Mia."

I took his hand and was a little surprised at how soft and smooth the skin was; a drastic difference from Jack's rough and calloused palms.

Speaking of Jack, I swiveled around and found him gazing blankly at the sky, completely lost in thought. I tugged his hair and he snapped out of his daze with a start, shaking his head as if clearing his thoughts. I leaned over to him and poked his nose, which caused him to glare playfully at me. I bit back a giggle and turned back to Jonathan, who was, by the look on his face, feeling a bit left out.

"Jonathan this is Jack," I laughed, "and Jack this is Jonathan…"

Jonathan regarded Jack with cautious eyes, probably wondering about his scars. I touched his hand and his clear blue gaze shifted over to me, where I shook my head and softly warned him with my eyes.

Jack didn't seem to have noticed our quiet exchange, for he was plucking the legs off of a grasshopper.

"Jack!" I sighed, warning him to stop.

He grinned at me and flicked the legless insect in my direction. I squealed and scooted backwards, trying to avoid the bug. It landed near me and I crawled closer to Jonathan, as to get away from the dead creature. Jonathan shifted uncomfortably…I must've gotten into his personal bubble.

"You suck," I said to Jack, with a deliberate pout on my face.

He just rolled over and laughed; a wild, hearty sound that was mildly contagious. I smiled and Jonathan seemed amused enough, though his smile didn't touch his eyes. I wanted to get him involved.

"Quiz time!" I cried.

Jack rolled up to a sitting position, clutching his stomach and wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. Jonathan had closed his book and had his arms around his legs, chin resting on his knees. He was watching me with curious eyes.

"Quick, Jack, what's your favorite color?"

"What the heck, Mia?" he rolled his eyes and reclined on his elbows.

"Pressure, Jack, pressure!" I laughed.

"I…umm…purple!"

"Alrighty…Jonathan, favorite animal?"

"Humans," he replied with a grin, as if enjoying a private joke.

A little odd…but…weren't we all?

"Cool," I smiled at him. "Okay-"

"Mia! What's your favorite pastime?" Jack cut me off, his voice high and excited.

"Umm…sewing!" I replied gleefully.

The game went on for an hour or so, questions becoming more and more random. Jonathan was getting engaged, his eyes danced and he even smiled for real a couple of times. As it turns out, we all had a lot of things in common, besides the fact that we were all poor and considered freaks. None of us had siblings, we all lived in the same part of town, and we all utterly despised Chinese food, among other things. Jonathan revealed that he wanted to become a psychiatrist, while Jack and I were completely undecided on our future occupation.

I sighed, smiling, and lay down in the grass, my dark hair fanning out from beneath me.

"I want to rule the world."

"Me too," Jack sighed contentedly, propped up on his elbow next to me, staring at the wide, grey sky.

I don't think he realized that his other hand played with a hunk of my hair.

Jonathan lay beside me on his back, hands behind his head.

"You guys are crazy," he laughed.

"We're all crazy," I said, staring at the sky. "The difference between us and the rest is that we accept our insanity while the others go on pretending to be sane."

"You're quite the philosopher," Jonathan teased with good humor, elbowing me a little.

I merely smiled softly at him, gazing up at the sparse clouds hanging like ripped sheets on a clothesline in the faded sky. We were like pieces of a puzzle, clicking perfectly into each other: Jonathan being the shy genius, Jack being the fearless comic, and me…the piece that brought the two opposites together.

We were the trio of misfits; Jack, Jonathan and I.

And one day, one of us would rule the world

* * *

A/N: Haha...I'm kinda flying by the seat of my pants here! :D The Joker and Crane may not seem in-character right now, but as they get older they'll develop ito the bad boys we know and love. Reviews are very very very appreciated!


	2. Development

Our years at GMS passed quickly in a flurry of laughs, fights, and all-nighters.

Jack had four growth spurts by the time freshman year had started, making him a startling 6"4. He still retained his child-like humor, just now it was infused with hormones. His eyes seemed to be perpetually smiling and dancing with the untamable life that writhed inside of him like a million gleeful maggots, and his skin always held the perfectly balanced tan that he somehow acquired from the sun, even through the smog that blanketed the dying city. His scars never faded, though I hardly noticed them now, and his hygiene never quiet improved. But that was Jack, and we loved him that way.

Jonathan grew taller as well, but he reached his stopping point at the height of 6", still tall enough to tower over me. He was our savior in school, always helping us with our homework and smacking us on the back of the head when we drifted into la-la land. He grew into his large eyes and lost the roundness of childhood in his face, leaving him with strikingly high cheekbones. He still was made fun of, though, this time not for his clothing but for his beauty. Guys teased him and girls swooned, though they were eventually put off by his icy exterior. He switched back and forth between the Jonathan that Jack and I had come to love, and the Jonathan that withered people with his frosty glares, and biting sarcasm. But underneath his defenses, we knew that he was just insecure and self conscious. In his moment of weakness, we'd there to listen, in my case, and laugh it off, in Jack's case.

I grew a few inches and stopped short at 5"3, earning the nickname "Doll" for my small stature. They only used it when I was mad though, because both of them know I hated that nickname. Besides my height, I hadn't changed much. I still had long hair, though I brushed it now, and I still wore my mother's clothes. The only real difference between the current me and the sixth grade me was the…development. I'd filled out towards the middle of freshman year, almost overnight, much to my dismay.

They'd noticed the physical changes right away.

I'd come to school in my normal baggy sweater and stovepipe jeans, and was fishing around in my locker when Jack came up from behind me and hugged me, arms crossing over my chest.

Almost as soon as he'd felt the softness of my upper chest, he quickly withdrew his arms.

"Doll?" his voice was uncertain, as if he'd hugged the wrong girl.

"You know I hate it when you call me that." I said softly, hugging my books to my chest.

He was silent for a minute, and then with his usual zeal he said:

"Wow, Dolls, you're quite the _lady_ now, huh?" he snickered. "Get an overnight visit from the boob fairy? She musta really liked you 'cause you got quite a lot going on up there. You-"

"You keep it up and I'll cheerfully beat you to death." I hissed, turning to face him.

He laughed his trademark laugh, only now huskier and deeper, and dodged me easily as I tried to smack him.

I huffed with frustration and stormed away to my third class. Jonathan sat in his usual seat, with his books stacked on the desk next to him, saving my seat. I strutted over to the desk and slammed my books down on its faux-wood surface. Jonathan looked up at my face, saw that I was on the verge of my 'angry tears' (as Jack and Jonathan had come to know them as), and reached his hand out. I took his hand in mine and squeezed it as my angry tears brimmed over and left hot trails down my flushed cheeks. There were questions in the watery depths of Jonathan's blue eyes, but I kept my gaze straight ahead, vision so blurry with tears that I didn't really see anything.

After about thirty minutes of class, I left under the false pretense that I was going to the bathroom. As soon as the classroom door had shut behind me, I bolted to the bathroom. I sat on the sink counter and let all of the anger, frustration, embarrassment, and shame pour out of me in the form of hot, salty tears. They slicked my cheeks and rolled over my lips, down my chin, splattering on my faded red sweater. I could feel my shoulders shaking with sobs that were trapped behind my lips, and I jumped when the door creaked open. I did not want to be seen like this.

"Mia?" Deep and uncertain, Jonathan walked hesitantly around the corner and found me, a wreck, perched upon the counter.

I think he was caught off guard by my splotchy red face and trembling lower lip, because he just stared at me for a minute, processing what might've happened.

"Was it Robbie?"

Robbie Hauser was the upper class jock who was notorious for degrading girls by smacking them on the ass as he walked by and molesting them, figuratively, with his beady brown eyes. Besides demeaning girls, Robbie was known for his brute strength and the way he used it on the weaker, smarter lowerclassmen like Jonathan.

I shook my head quickly, indicating that it was most definitely not Robbie. I didn't even want to think of him right now.

"Kitty?"

Kitty was Robbie's right hand girl, his bootycall, and my own personal tormentor. Earlier in the year she'd stuck a dead rat in my locker over the weekend, letting it rot and decay in its own blood and life fluids. Before that, she and her posse stole both my regular and gym clothes while I was changing, so I had to wear a combination of Jack's extra gym shorts and Jonathan's jacket, zipped up all the way since I had no shirt. I found the stolen articles, my favorite blue and white striped sweater and jeans, in a dirty puddle of rancid-smelling, stagnant water. Jack and Jonathan walked with me to the Dumpster where I gave the ruined clothing a proper burial.

I completely and absolutely hated Kitty with all of my being. But that was another matter.

I shook my head furiously and Jonathan sighed.

"Who then? If you just tell me I'm sure that Jack will cut them to bits."

His voice was soft with a hint of humor when he made the Jack comment; the gentle tone in his voice was encouraging me to talk.

"Jack…_is_ the problem." I groaned through gritted teeth, not looked at Jonathan.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to exhale all of my pent up emotions. I could hear the rustling of Jonathan's pants as he shifted weight from his left foot to his right, and then to his left again. It was another one of his nervous habits, like biting his lower lip and running his hands through his hair. When I opened my eyes he was watching me with his, the infinite pools of blue swirling with emotions that I didn't understand.

He walked over to me with his long-legged stride and hesitated, then put his arms around me. I was shocked stiff by this; Jonathan had never hugged me. Ever.

He rested his chin on top of my head and exhaled through his nose, squeezing me tighter. My arms lay limply at my sides, his firm chest pressing up against mine. He tensed, sensing something different about my body and his arms fell away from me. He took a few steps back, left fist clenched so tight it looked as if his bones would burst from his pale skin. His other hand was running itself through his dark hair, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks, scaling his high cheekbones.

"It happened overnight…He noticed right away…I hate him right now, Jonathan, I hate him so much!" My words came out in a rush, flooding the bathroom with my broken voice.

"Wh-what did he…do?" Jonathan stuttered a little bit; it happened when he was nervous, though it hadn't happened in a good while.

"He just…ugh! He's being his normal jerk-self! It's not like I asked for these!" I gestured wildly, angrily, until I felt that horrible weight on my chest bounce with my gesticulations.

Jonathan seemed to have noticed it before I did. That set me off.

"What the freaking hell, Jonathan? You can't look at me that way! Ugh! Just- Ugh!" I stamped my foot and my angry tears began flowing like lava down my cheeks, scorching my already flushed skin.

Jonathan's eyes pierced through a spot on the floor, though I'm sure that he couldn't really see it. I knew where this was going. I held my breath, knowing if I opened my mouth that I would sob.

A good ten minutes passed by, filled with a sort of pregnant silence, my anticipation for him to speak almost giving me a headache.

Jonathan finally looked up at my through his thick, dark lashes and frowned.

"We should probably get back to class." He voice held no emotion and his face was a slate of chiseled granite, conveying nothing. His eyes were blank and frosted over, and I knew I had lost him. He wasn't my Jonathan anymore; he was the cold shell of a boy that existed to protect Jonathan. I wanted to scream.

Without another word, he turned and left, leaving me even angrier and more embarrassed that before he came.

My cheeks stung with shame and I bit my lip to keep from crying again. I hated Jonathan. I hated Jack. And most of all I freaking hated life for giving me this stupid body. But…I couldn't let them win. And crying in the bathroom all day was certainly letting them win.

Digging my nails into my palms, I inhaled deeply for the last time and sulked out of the bathroom.

I didn't realize how long I'd been in there, and, upon leaving, I noticed that everyone was flocking to their lockers, getting ready for lunch. I stormed over to my locker and began sifting through books and binders to find my lunch. A sinking feeling dripped down into my stomach when I realized it wasn't there, and the feeling was only heightened when I heard a prissy soprano voice from behind me.

"Looking for this?" Kitty sneered, baring her bleached white teeth.

Pinched between her two perfectly manicured fingers was my simple, paper bag lunch. She waved it back and forth in front of my nose, and when I made a grab for it, she dropped it and squished the innocent meal underneath her strappy black heel.

"Oh dear," She cried in mock surprise, throwing her hands up in the air. "Silly me!"

Her laugh was acidic, biting at my ears like a million venomous spiders. I wanted to take a hunk of her corn silk-blond hair and rip it out. But someone beat me to it.

Her face jerked upward as Jack yanked a fistful of her long hair, and a high, annoying shriek escaped from her glossy lips. Hands darting to her hair, she tried (oh so futilely) to pry Jack's fingers from her tresses. Jack snatched her thin wrists between his other hand and twisted them behind her back. She squealed and kicked her feet like a pig about to be slaughtered, and, in response, Jack knotted his fingers tighter into her thick locks and wrenched her head closer to him.

"Now play _nice_." Jack growled into her ear, his voice deepened to that of some creature hissing from the pits of hell.

I could see his lips brushing against her earlobe as he spoke, and she cringed away from the slight contact.

Then she foolishly decided to put on her "brave bitch" front.

"When Robbie finds out about you, you're fucking dead." She spat, baring her teeth like the animal she was.

This response tickled Jack, for he threw his head back and released a charming yet chilling laugh that floated in the air like the ghost of a butterfly; it fluttered around my heart and finally settled there, its necrotic legs poisoning the muscle and making it shudder to a stop. I held my breath.

He then threw Kitty to the hard cement floor and loomed over her, hand snaking his pocket. With one impossibly quick and erratic movement he whipped out his switchblade, the same one that saved Jonathan and I from being beaten to death, and flicked up the blade.

"Kitty, Kitty, oh so…._pretty_," he crooned maliciously, waving the knife around like he was conducting an invisible orchestra.

Kitty lay sprawled on the pavement, crying shamelessly as she wiped her scraped and bleeding palms on the concrete; leaving smears of angry, red blood that looked like a child's finger-paint masterpiece. Mascara ran down her face in watery veins, and the sight of it made me glad that I never wore makeup, even though I couldn't afford such luxuries. Kitty hiccupped and threw a look at Jack's looming figure that was supposed to be a bitchy, defiant glare, but her eyes were too wide, too white and her skin was too pale. She was scared shitless.

Jack pouted his lips out and wiped away an imaginary tear, looking like a disturbed clown with his permanent smile and the luminescent mocking that raged like a euphoric fire in his eyes.

"Why the long face, pretty Kitty? You need to relax, need to…_smile_." He traced the blade along the length of his scars.

Kitty sucked in a sharp gasp and brought her hands up to her mouth, despair draining even more color from her naturally pale face. Jack's eyes twinkled, and he flicked the switchblade towards her, with a wide grin stretching across his scarred cheeks.

I knew that his intent was to scare her, not to hurt her, though I'm sure he'd love to but would not in my presence. I also knew that his aim was impeccable. So I wasn't surprised when the blade clattered on the cement by her hip instead of impaling her slender thigh. Kitty, however, was. Her eyes rolled up into her head and with a nice, clean _crack_ her head hit the pavement.

Jack knelt beside the fainted girl and swiftly snatched up his beloved switchblade, wiping it against his flannel shirt as to get the dirt off of it. He cleaned his blade affectionately, completely oblivious to the fact that I was watching him with intent and slightly fearful eyes. Somewhat discreetly, his eyes flickered to my feet and worked their way up to my eyes, pausing slowly over the curve of my hips. When his eyes reached mine he raised his blond brows and a triumphant smile crossed his lips.

"So how was that for a show? She even fainted, what a treat!" He bragged, swinging his arms outwards to emphasize the greatness of her unconsciousness.

I averted my gaze, keeping my eyes trained on a line of ants marching across the cracked pavement and chewed on my lower lip. My heart rate accelerated and something cold and writhing made weird, erratic patterns in my stomach. Fear.

I was afraid of him.

"Dolls, c'mon. You've never been the-uh…_sensitive_ type." He teased, swinging the switchblade nonchalantly between his thumb and forefinger.

He poked his head forward, twisting it to the side like a confused puppy, and a wicked grin stretched across his lips.

"Jack…stop…" I ordered him shakily, keeping my eyes on the blade swinging like a metronome between his fingers.

He leaned in, the heaviness of his stare bringing my eyes up to his. His cheeks were lifted with a crooked smile, eyebrows pulled upward. His tongue darted out for the briefest second, running itself along the smooth curve of his lower lip. Then his lips stretched back and he laughed a rough, mocking giggle. The gust from his breath sent a burst of hot air on my lips and cheeks, and for whatever reason my own lips turned up in a fearful half-smile.

"Uh-hum…" He exhaled in a sort of growl, pressing his forehead against my own. "Dolly-olly-olly, you cannot be afraid of little ole me? You think-uh, you think that I'd hurt you after we've been through? All the years of camaraderie? No-ho-ho, _Dolls_."

His hands were now on my wrists, holding them lightly by my sides. He licked his lip again, his tongue just barely brushing my own lip. I flinched back and squeezed my eyes shut tight, the manacle-like grip he had on my smalls wrists tightened. He released one wrist and brought his hand up so fast to my face that I thought he would hit me. I put my free hand on his chest to push him back and tensed for the incoming blow, only to feel his rough knuckles against my lip, wiping away his saliva.

"Doll, look at me." He said almost softly, well…as soft as his raspy voice would go.

I turned my face away from him and bit my lip, holding my breath.

_"Look at me!"_ Growling like a hellish animal, he shot his free hand into my hair and knotted a fistful of my dark locks.

I let out the stupidest, most pathetic squeak as he yanked my head backwards against the lockers. My eyes popped open, almost involuntarily, and I searched his jade-frosted irises for something sane. But his eyes were flat, like an animal's, overflowing with raw aggression and something else, something completely out of my comprehension.

His lips pulled back into a sneering smile and he began to close the distance between us.

All of the sudden, Jack flew back as Jonathan slammed into him with all of his weight. Jack skidded along the pavement on his back, while Jonathan turned to him, his back facing me in a protective manner.

"What the _hell_ are you doing to her?" Jonathan yelled, voice torn somewhere between anger and incredulity.

Jack shook his head, the animalistic rage fleeing from his eyes, and leapt to his feet, all while glaring at Jonathan. Jack stalked away, shoving the switchblade into his pants pocket.

Jonathan turned to me, eyes wide, and ran a hand through his hair, other hand grapping mine, which was clenched tightly at my side.

"Are you okay?" He breathed, ducking his head down to my level.

"Yeah," I gave him a lame smile and exhaled through my nostrils once I realized that I'd been holding my breath.

Then the world became a blur of colors, my knees buckled, and the last thing I felt before being swallowed by the darkness was my head smash into the lockers behind me.

* * *

**A/N:** Check out my profile for updates on my ffs! Also, there's a note there to my readers...so check it out!! =D


	3. Swimming with Monsters

It took a good week or so before Jonathan loosened up around Jack, and though the tension seemed to be lost between the two, my fear still crackled in my veins every time Jack became rambunctious. I'm sure he could feel the way I stiffened under his touch as he swung his arm around my shoulders, a typical action of his as we walked somewhere, and I'm positive that he recognized the way I couldn't look him in the eye as he challenged my opinions or pushed my limits.

I was just being stupid, though. It's not like he'd actually hurt me or anything. At least…that's what I thought.

Lunchtime, only one more class and we were free. Jack had gone to his locker to get his lunch, while Jonathan and I situated ourselves in our normal spot, just outside of the fence that separated the baseball field from the forest. It was kind of convenient actually, going to one of the crappiest school in Gotham, because it was right out on the city limits, by the beautiful forest.

Jack came skipping along, lunch and water bottle in hand. He was the only guy I knew who was so comfortable with his sexuality that he would actually skip across campus.

"Well ladiessssss…I was-uh thinking and-"

"You? Thinking? Ahhh!" I clutched Jonathan in mock horror.

Jonathan just rolled his eyes, mouth too full with a sandwich to say anything.

"Oh-ho-ho! Mia made a funny." Jack fake-laughed dryly, tossing his paper-bag lunch at me.

"Hey! No head shots!" I yelled, half-angry, when the bag, and more importantly, the apple inside the bag, collided with my head.

Jack went off on one of his real laughing tangents, while I rubbed my head with exaggerated poutiness.

"You suck." I spat at him.

"You su-uck." He mocked back in sing-song voice.

"Children please," Jonathan said softly, collecting the scattered contents of Jack's lunch.

Before the apple reached the safety of Jonathan's pale grasp, I snatched it from the grass. In one quick motion, I swiped my tongue across the apple's smooth, waxy surface and chucked it at Jack. He caught it with ease and raised an eyebrow.

"Seriouslyyy…you are _so_ immature." He grinned and took a bite of the saliva-tainted fruit.

"Ewww…Jack!" Jonathan and I cried simultaneously.

"Now," Jack said choppily through a mouth full of apple, "We are going on a...a _field trip_. So pack up your, uh, lunches and lets _sca-ram."_

He kicked the ground by our feet and tossed a look over his shoulders, as if to emphasize the urgency of our leaving.

I turned to look at Jonathan, who had already gotten up and extended his hand towards me, an offering to help me stand. But I stayed firmly in my spot.

"Where are we going? And why-"

But it was too late. Jack had swooped down and, in an instant, thrown me over his shoulder and began to walk further into the forest.

"Jack! Jonathan! What the hell?!"

"Just go with it," Jonathan offered, "at least we get to skip Spanish." He shrugged and kept pace behind Jack.

I then proceeded to pound on Jack's back and kick my feet like a freakin' two-year-old, chanting over and over:

"Put me down! Jack! Just put me down! _Ugh_!"

Finally, when we were far away enough that I couldn't run back to school too easily, he threw me down onto a softer patch of grass.

"Hey! Careful with the merchandise!" I scowled at him, half-playfully.

"You'll ah, live." He replied, tongue swiping over his lips.

"So what are we doing?" Jonathan asked casually, as if I hadn't been so rudely abducted and tossed onto the ground.

"Swimming!" Jack howled enthusiastically, practically jumping in the air.

Jonathan and I both looked around, raising our eyebrows. There was no water to be seen or heard.

"Welllll," he drawled, "You think I'd take-uh the _chance_ of us getting caught? No-ho-_ho_. We're going quite a waysssss. So let's _go_!" He was antsy to get moving, and practically leapt over me in the direction of the swimming-place.

Jonathan, being the somewhat gentleman that he was, lent his hand to me in order for me to stand. I rose with his help and rubbed my butt sorely. That was going to bruise later.

Catching up to his pace, Jack threw his arm over my shoulders and, like the coward I am, I felt my muscles seize up.

"Dolly-olly-olly…reallyyyy?"

He peered down at me, knitting his brows and giving me his puppy-dog eyes. I knew that he felt my tension.

"Really." I said firmly, sticking my tongue out for good measure.

He laughed, hopping a bit, all joy and mischief until Jonathan deflated his good mood.

"Jack…we don't have swimwear." Jonathan pointed out obviously.

"We uh, what?" Jack stopped hop-skipping.

"Bathing suits?" Jonathan prompted.

"Oh." His tongue made another appearance, dancing at the corner of his scar.

"You guys can just swim in your shorts and I'll stay on the banks." I presented lightly.

"Right! Right! Right!" Jack bounced, literally, "I knewww there was reason we kept you around." He laughed huskily, pushing his hand on top of my head and mussing my hair.

I glared at him my best and he pinched my side.

"For the-uh, last time…let's _go_." Jack took my hand and I latched onto Jonathan with my other, all of us making a run into the thicker forest.

After about ten minutes of straight sprinting, I was the first to tire and break off of the little chain we had going. Jonathan stopped shortly after and then Jack, who was still just bursting with energy.

"Almost, ah-almost there!" He giggled, clapping his hands.

"Seriouslyyy, you are so immature." I quoted Jack, doing my best impression of his deep, rough voice.

"I. Do. Not. Sound. Like. That." He growled, walking backwards.

Jonathan and I exchanged glances, and then both burst out into laughter.

We walked side by side, feeding off of each other's good mood while Jack half-jogged forward.

"He's like a puppy," Jonathan whispered to me, eyes on Jack.

"A deranged puppy that chews up all your favorite shoes." I remarked.

Jonathan stifled a laugh, his blue eyes sparkling, and looked on.

I enjoyed the silence between us, it was comfortable, not awkward, though at first I thought we were just walking too close, but when Jonathan's knuckles repeatedly grazed mine, I finally looked up at him, but Jack, who had stopped, took the words out of my mouth.

"Aww…is little _Jonny_ trying to hold Mia's hand? How cuuuuuute-uh!" He growled the last part, eyes gleaming.

Jonathan didn't answer; just shot Jack an especially chilly glare. Jack stumbled back, as if the defiant stare had actually hit him, and laughed snidely.

"Shut up Jack." I scolded definitively, flipping my hair and tossing him a bitchy smile.

Jack opened his mouth to say something, but instead he just laughed like the maniac he was and shook his head, as if reprimanding himself.

The sound of gushing water ahead made us all eagerly trot ahead, and I think I actually gasped when I saw the spring.

Nestled back into a little corner of the forest laid a seemingly small pool of water, and the melodic rush of a waterfall drew us closer to a more confined space where water was thrusting itself over a beautiful tumble of rocks about ten feet above the water. All along the banks were patches of blue and violet wildflowers, and ivy clung to the rocks that enclosed the area.

And before I could close my mouth from hanging in awe, a great splash of the cool water smacked against the back of my throat and I started hacking in the most attractive manner.

"You should really ah, cut down to a pack-a-day." Jack crooned from below. He'd already stripped his shirt and shoes and was down in the water, splashing around, happy as can be.

Jonathan clapped me on the back till I could breath, then we both perched on the edge of the rocky bank. We both kicked off our Converse and laid the black sneakers next to Jack's belongings. Dipping our feet into the water, we shivered. It was glacial.

"C'mon Jonny Boy!" Jack splashed playfully at our feet. Jonathan's skinny ankles and large feet were comical next to mine, tiny as a doll's.

"You think you'll ever grow into those feet?" I asked, tugging on a chunk of Jonathan's thick, dark hair.

"I-"

"You know what they say about big feet!" Jack chirped, interrupting Jonathan.

"Jack," Jonathan warned, kicking a wave of water at him.

I didn't really get it, but didn't press for more info. By the look on Jack's face, it was bound to be something perverted.

Jack came at us with a mouthful of the cool, clear water and sprayed it at us. Jonathan stood immediately, probably to go and find a rock to smash Jack over the head with, but I grabbed his hand.

"Like a puppy," I reminded Jonathan with a smile.

"A puppy that needs to be neutered." Jonathan growled, running a hand through his hair angrily.

As if on cue, Jack then made manacles around our ankles with his hands, and quicker than I thought possible, dragged us into the frigid pool.

Water rushed into my mouth and nose, stinging and biting its way down into my lungs. A rough hand clamped itself around my upper arm and dragged me to the surface, sputtering and sneezing liquid. I was brought face-to-face with Jack's scarred grin, Jonathan glowering at the tanned imp and smoothing the hair out of his eyes.

"Jack, its freaking freezing!" I chattered through my teeth. "And I'm in my flipping clothes! What am I going to do when we have to leave? Die of hypothermia?" I splashed angrily at him.

"Yeah, thanks a lot Jack." Jonathan snarled.

"Jusssst take off your shirt and leave it to dry, it'll be _all fine and dandy_ when we leave."

"What about me?" I demanded angrily, pounding my fist into the water.

"Just take my shirt-tuh. Jeez, you're so _whiney_ today."

"I wouldn't have anything to whine about if you weren't so freaking impulsive." I huffed, beginning to paddle to the shore.

"Ah-tah-tah-tah." Jack snatched my calf and raised his other hand, pointing his index finger admonishingly. "One game, jussssst. One. Then you and little uh, _Jonny_ there can be party poopers all you want."

"Okay, shoot." I half-sighed, half-ordered.

"Marco-polo!" He wheezed gleefully, "Jonny's it!"

"This is so lame, Jack." I said dismissively, beginning to head back to dry land.

"So you'd rather hang with your…your _lover-boy _than play one little ole game with your friend?" Jack sighed with mock defeat and rejection.

"Ohmigod! You are _so_ annoying. Fine. Let's get this over with."

Jack tackled me with a hug and then sprung around to face Jonathan.

"Alrighty, Jonny boyyyy, count to uhmmm…thirty. Got it?"

Jonathan rolled his eyes and nodded, glaring at me like_ I_ was the one to blame for Jack's childish whims.

Trying to be as silent as possible, Jack and I swam towards the waterfall, with a plan to lead Jonathan towards it and then swim elsewhere.

"Marco!" Jonathan called with his silky voice, eyes closed and hands out in front of him like a blind zombie.

"Polo!" Jack and I yelled back in unison.

He swam closer to us.

"Marco!"

"Polo!"

It went on for ten more minutes, until Jonathan was almost a foot away from us. Then Jack grasped my wrist and dragged to the side of the waterfall, where a narrow strip of water, mostly hidden by rocks, led to another small pool of water. The roar of the fall was muted now, and Jack led me to the edge of the pond, eyes like jade fire. His cheeks lifted in a gruesome smile and my heart sped up, crashing like thunder in my chest. Something…something was _wrong_.

"Now that-uh, now that we're alone." He cooed, leering in at me, "Tell me what you think about dear ole _Jonny-boy_."

Despite my fear, I felt that stupid fire of anger erupt in my belly. "Why are you so obsessed with him? You're not _gay_, are you?" I spat with a derisive smile.

That remark wiped that dumb smirk off of Jack's lips. His tongue ran itself along the curve of his full lower lip and that black danger from the locker incident returned to his eyes.

"So-uh…you think I'm a _queer_?!" He said shakily, trying to reign in his anger. His fists were tight knots at his sides, the tendons sticking out of his wrists so beautifully.

I merely laughed, feeling fear worm its way through my veins and intestines like some arctic tapeworm. Goosebumps peaked on my arms and I could feel something coming, something…not too good.

Faster than I could register, Jack clamped his right hand around my neck, so hard and so fast that I didn't even have time to inhale before he decided to cut off my air. I could feel my eyes bulge, my nostrils flare, and my face redden with lack of oxygen. I squeaked and kicked and splashed, but to no avail. His iron grip remained, as did the inhuman rage in his eyes.

His other hand snaked up my violet sweater and grabbed my breast roughly. His short nails dug into virgin flesh, and I uttered a small cry of panic. My lungs were imploding, the air raking itself across the organs as it fled from my lips and nostrils. I couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe, couldn't…breathe.

He brought his lips down to the base of my neck, nipping and biting harshly as he worked his way up the goose-bumped flesh.

Finally he released my neck in favor of the side of my face, thumb pressing hard enough to break my fragile cheekbone. I inhaled sharply, the air scalding my cracking lungs.

His other fingers curled slightly into my hair and his hot mouth trailed upwards still, till it found my own. His chapped lips were urgent against mine, his tongue like a molten snake trying to pry its way past my sealed lips. Immediately my hands were against his chest, pushing him away, but he was a statue. Yanking my head back, I stole another gasp of oxygen before he pressed his mouth to mine. Eyes wide and desperate, I did what I thought would've put him off: I bit him.

Right on his serpent tongue, my teeth sank in and at the same time he elicited a moan, tightening his grip on my breast, cheek, and hair. I turned my face to the side, trying to loosen his death grip on my hair, which felt that it might tear out of my scalp, and screamed with all of my energy, which was not much. To my disgust, he began grinding his hips into mine, razor-sharp hip bones crashing against my own. My mind was becoming fuzzy, eyes stinging with tears, becoming blurry. He was going to rape me.

I screamed and screamed and screamed, and all of it went into his mouth. I even bit him again, which only made him growl and bite _me_ back. My fists were balls of iron pounding against his chest and I lifted my head to expel one more scream, this time a name.

"Jonathan!"

Through the ringing in my ears I heard frantic splashing, and then Jack's face was ripped away with the force of a punch. Jonathan stood before me in the shallow waters, shaking the fist that had punched Jack, eyes wide and face red. Jack turned from the half-crouched position the punch had set him in, hand cupped beneath his gushing nose. The animalistic lust and rage seemed to have been knocked from his head, because his eyes were clear now, and the ghost of a grin traced his lips.

"What the _fuck_ was that?" Jonathan screamed, breathing heavily, fists clenched in front of him.

"She called me queer." Jack said lightly, almost as if the fact that I called him gay dismissed his actions.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned his head back, trying to stop the blood as if nothing had happened.

I'd been so caught up in the drama that I hadn't realized that I'd been sobbing, my shoulders quaking and my hands trembling. Jonathan looked from me to Jack, and then to me again. Then the most horrible thing happened.

Jonathan's eyes frosted, his jaw tightened, and his breathing evened. He was gone. Anti –Jonathan was here now, emotionless, cold, and immune to the pain and anger that would be ravaging Jonathan right now.

I lifted my shaking hand and reached out for him, hoping to rock his shoulder to wake him from the abyss of his mind, but anti-Jonathan shifted is weight so his shoulder was out of reach, glaring at me through the thick fringe of his lashes, his eyes like icy daggers. Without another word, he wrapped a cool white hand around my wrist with enough strength to crush the frail, protruding bones.

"We're leaving." He informed Jack, turning to lead me out by bruising wrist.

Jack had stopped his bleeding nose and was stalking behind us, a good ways away. Like the paranoid mess that I was, I kept turning to face him, anxious and scared and waiting for _something_.

My heart was like a tribal drum in my chest, beating so fast and irregularly that I thought I was going to have a heart attack or something. I'd stopped crying like a baby, though my fingers were still trembling.

We came to the bank where our shoes and Jack's shirt lay, and Jonathan didn't even miss a beat as he swung himself onto dry land. He dragged me up with him, seating me a good inch or two from himself. Jonathan pulled his shoes on mechanically, strategically placing his long legs between me and Jack. I slipped my feet into my Converse and proceeded to wring out my sleeves, shivering and rubbing my legs together to create some warmth in my body.

Jack had yanked on his matching black shoes and tossed his dry shirt over my head. A little disorientated, I fumbled beneath the huge shirt and then finally found the arm and head holes. I felt Jack watching me with his hooded eyes and when I turned to him, his lips turned up into a mischievous smile.

I averted my gaze and rose, this time offering my hand to Jonathan. He took it and, with great difficulty, I helped him up.

We walked in silence for a good ten or fifteen minutes, Jonathan leading, me following closely after, and Jack trailing behind, kicking rocks at the backs of our feet. I hoped that Jonathan could feel my unspoken gratitude radiating off of me, and at the same moment that thought crossed my mind, his crystalline gaze shifted down to my drenched figure. He rubbed my back awkwardly and I knew my Jonathan had returned.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly.

I nodded, giving him a tight, close-lipped smile that was only half-genuine. I let my gaze fall upon the forest ahead, letting him rest his hand between my shoulder blades.

Deep in my heart, I knew that Jack and I could never be the same.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm very ambivalent about this one...please review and tell me what you think! :)


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